


Under Your Scars

by SeraphFighter



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Human Cortana (Halo), Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeraphFighter/pseuds/SeraphFighter
Summary: Nights aren't always easy for the both of them, but being there together makes them a little easier to bear.
Relationships: Cortana/John-117 | Master Chief
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Under Your Scars

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about John and Cortana's separate traumas as a result of all they've experienced, and this is the result of those feelings. 
> 
> *Title inspired by Godsmack's song "Under Your Scars"*

I. 

She felt like she was going to suffocate. The darkness of the room pressed against her from all sides, anchoring her to the mattress. Every shadow morphed into them--their lumbering forms, the distorted faces of humanity and Covenant alike. It loomed over her; an amalgamation of tentacles and rotten flesh, the knowledge of a thousand lifetimes. The blanket around her morphed into its limbs, caressing and tightening around her. 

She couldn't breathe. 

She forced her eyes shut, gasping sharp breaths in through her nose. She could feel the sweat slicking her skin--why was she shivering? She tried to force herself to move, to push with her arms and legs, to shove the limbs around her off. All she could manage was clenching her fists. The panic seized her all the way to her bones, immobilizing her. 

She blinked her eyes open again. Tried to remind herself that she was in her room, that their lumbering forms were only the shadows cast by the furniture. Bile burned the back of her throat. Her chest convulsed, a sob tearing it's way out of her throat. 

The weight pressing into her finally lessened enough for her to sit upright. She shoved the blankets off of her with trembling hands. She curled in on herself, threading her hands through her hair and gritting her teeth against another sob. Nausea coiled tightly in her stomach. Tears stung her eyes. 

The acrid taste of metal hit her tongue. She swallowed, her stomach convulsing. She was going to be sick. She needed to escape. She was trapped, stranded. She--

"Cortana." John's voice cut through her thoughts, a splash of clarity amidst the panic. 

She tried to respond. She tried to say his name, to reach out and find his hand in the darkness, but she could not get herself to move. 

Light flooded the room as he switched the bedside lamp on. She felt the mattress dip beside her and then he was there, his touch gentle on her back. "Take deep breaths," he instructed her quietly, his lips moving against her temple. 

Cortana took a deep, gasping breath, her body trembling from the force of it. John's hand remained steady on her back, coaching her through her through it as she struggled to take in breaths. Gradually, her breathing became more even as the tension drained out of her body. She slowly uncurled from herself, her limbs aching in protest. 

John didn't shift from his position beside her, his hand rubbing soothing circles along her spine. She could sense him watching her, waiting on her to speak before he did. He wouldn't push her to tell him about it; he never did. She stared down at her hands, not meeting his gaze. She knew as soon as she saw the concern in his eyes--the kind of concern he reserved for her--she would break again. 

"I'm sorry," she said after a moment, hating the way her voice cracked. "I woke you up." 

"You know I don't care about that." 

"Well I do!" Cortana snapped. She winced as soon as the words had left her mouth, burying her face in her hands and taking a steadying breath. She continued after a moment, her voice calmer. "It's not fair for you to have to deal with," she gestured vaguely towards herself, "this." 

He took her outburst all in stride. "We're a team," he stated, as if it were the most simple thing in the world. 

She couldn't stop the small scoff that escaped her. "Team? That's the only word you could think of?" 

"What would you have me say?" 

"I don't know! Partner, lover--" There was a volley of words that could be used on to describe their relationship ready to escape her lips until she finally met his gaze and saw the arch of his eyebrows and the smallest quirk of his lips. 

He had done it on purpose to distract her; the best method to get her mind distracted from the feelings the nightmare had left her with. Damn him. 

Cortana huffed and turned back away from him, scrubbing at the dried tears on her cheeks. 

"Better?" He asked her. 

She could still feel the trace effects of the panic--her hands were shaky, her stomach still felt like it was in knots, and her eyes burned--but her heart had stopped pounding and her breath was coming easier. "Yeah, I think so."

Satisfied with her answer, John shifted, taking hold of her waist and lying back down, guiding her with him. He brought the blankets over them as Cortana stayed pressed against his side, shifting so her arm was thrown across his stomach and her head was resting on his shoulder. She wasn't ready to break apart from him, not yet, and he didn't withdraw or flinch away from the contact. He never did when it came to her. 

His voice broke the silence. "They're not getting any better." 

She swallowed against the knot that formed in her throat. "I know," she whispered. She absently traced one of the many scars that littered his torso. "Halsey said they would happen, a way for my brain to process the trauma." The word tasted bitter on her tongue. 

He covered her hand with his own. "I am never letting you go through anything like that again. I promise." 

Cortana blinked against the tears that threatened to fall--she had already cried enough tonight. She pressed a kiss against his collarbone. "And you always keep your promises."

John rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "Go back to sleep. I'll be here."

She settled back against him and closed her eyes. "You always are." 

II. 

He was jolted into wakefulness with the sight of Reach burning seared behind his eyelids and the acrid taste of ash on his tongue. 

He sat up so fast a wave of dizziness washed over him. On instinct, he reached for the combat knife that was tucked under his mattress as his eyes scanned the room for any perceivable threat. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room and he realized that nothing was there, his hand fell away from the hilt of the knife. He vaguely realized it was shaking. 

He pushed the blankets off of himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress and taking deep, steadying breaths. His shirt clung uncomfortably to his skin with sweat. 

It wasn't often he dreamt of Reach like that, but every time he did it left him feeling as hopeless as the day they had fled Reach, unable to do anything but watch the only home he had known burn. 

His gaze found the digital time readout on the wall. 0300. No one would be up at this hour. He could go on a run, leave behind the echoes of the dream and push his body until he was left feeling nothing but an exhaustion that would force him back into sleep. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done it. 

The mattress shifted behind him and Cortana spoke, her voice heavy with sleep, "John? Are you alright?"

Guilt coiled tight in his chest. It wasn't often that she got a peaceful night's sleep and his own dreams had woken her up from one. He swallowed past the taste of ash still lingering in his mouth and replied, "I'm fine. Go back to sleep." 

But Cortana saw right through him. He heard her shift again and then she was there sitting at his side. "Bad dream?" She asked quietly. 

John just made a low noise of acknowledgment in his throat. 

She didn't press him about it. Her hand found his where it was still grasping the edge of the mattress and coaxed his fingers loose, entwining her own with his. It was her way of saying that she was there; he wasn't alone. 

The tension slowly drained out of his body as Cortana rubbed her thumb soothingly over his knuckles. She couldn't see in the dark like he could, but he found her watching him, her gaze full of concern. 

"You should go back to sleep," he said after a moment. 

"Not without you." 

He sighed and averted his gaze again. "I don't think I'll be getting back to sleep," he admitted. 

He could sense her frown as she let go of his hand and pressed closer to him, bumping her shoulder with his. "Will you at least try for me? You need the rest." Her hand came up to rub between his shoulder blades. "Although you do need to get rid of this shirt before, I don't particularly feel like laying with you in sweaty clothes." 

He couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him. "Has anyone ever told you that you're stubborn?" 

She hummed, pressing a small kiss to the side of his jaw. "A few people. But you don't have room to talk."

She pulled away from him and taking the hint, John pulled his shirt over his head and followed her back down onto the bed. They lay facing each other, so close their noses were almost touching with Cortana's head pillowed on his arm while his other was slung over her waist. 

Her fingers found his jaw and she cradled his face. "You don't have to deal with this alone, you know. Not anymore." 

"I'm not alone. You're here." It wasn't often that a Spartan could say they had any constants in their lives outside of their team, but he could say with confidence she was one of his. She had been since their first combat trial on Reach. 

Her smile was bright even in the darkness of the room. "I am," she agreed. Her fingers that were on his jaw moved to the back of his head so she could run them soothingly through his hair. On instinct, John shifted so he could press his cheek to her shoulder, and she pressed soft kiss to the top of his head. "And I'll still be here when you wake up."

Despite his earlier doubts, John found his eyes drifting shut at her ministrations. "I'm holding you to that."

Her laugh was music to his ears. "Go to sleep John." 

He allowed her fingers carding through his hair and the sound of her beating heart to lull him back into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Endings aren't my strong suit, but I still hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!


End file.
